kissthatgoodbye | |: 001. Video/Spam : Feels Just Like I Don't Try :|

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    [It's not unusual for transmissions to start en route to whatever they'll eventually show; this one follows the floor for a moment, spins its focus past a wall, shows a glimpse of common room.

     Shows a partial view of a possibly familiar face, frowning in concentration, muttering more or less to himself.]

     Number of things nowhere near as simple as they should be: two so far. Well done, Admiral. Catch up to the twenty-first century, huh?

     [A few more small adjustments, and Alec is fully on screen, standing mid-corridor on one of the hallways. He beams, pleased with himself.]

     There. Now. Floor numbers go up or down? Is this thing actually on?  Hello?

     [ Spam : Open ]

     [Once his presence is successfully announced, it frees Alec up to investigate his new environment more thoroughly - and explore it he does, once he confirms what his research alone in his cabin has already told him: this place is nothing like Manticore. They seem to pride themselves on it, even. Additionally they're recovering from some kind of unusual crisis, and that leaves him a unique opportunity he doesn't intend to waste, especially not with what else his reading of the network has shown him.

     He covers his barcode with the collar of his jacket, and separates the Barge as he understands it into a grid, sets out to fill in the blank spots. He can be found poking around in the dining hall, the infirmary, the gym, the greenhouse, the art room, and lingering outside the pub, the maintenance office, the engine room. He even wanders down near Zero just to make sure he's left no corner uninvestigated.

    It's simple: act like he belongs here, see who takes the bait; he's friendly to everyone he sees, smiling easily, often waving in greeting if anyone looks at him. Evaluate, adjust, advance. As long as he has new surroundings to investigate, as long as he has new rules and social angles to learn, he doesn't have to think about why he's here, what it means, or what he means to do once he's sure of himself.]

     [ Private : Dillon Cole : A few days later, after this ]

    [No fumbling this time. He wants to be taken seriously and he expects this Dillon person is already familiar with X5s, too - enough to know that a few days is more than enough time for him to become competent with the communicator anyway, if nothing else.

     His speech is a little more formal, too, although he doesn't bother with being as starched and rigid as he's seen his clone on the network; he can, but he only needs the vague connection in this case.]

     Good afternoon, sir. I was told to contact with you a possible employment inquiry.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He cannot decide whether to be distressed by this information - things he does not want to experience - or dismiss it - things he has experienced worse than, check. The struggle makes it nowhere near the surface, his eyebrow raised skeptically over his beer can.]

...But you love it here.

Yeah. That happened, and I love it here. I been ripped apart by monsters and seen people I loved ripped apart by monsters, and I love it here. I been more hurt and scared here than anywhere else, but I still love it here.

I know it don't make sense.

Sure it does.

You're a masochist. I get it. [Lightly, jokingly. He don't get it.]

I feel like I belong here. I feel loved.

People didn't pay much attention to me before I was here. Usually.

So, what doesn't make sense about that?

I guess some people would say it ain't worth it.

Good thing it's not about them then, isn't it?

[She grins at him.]

Yeah, you're right. I mean... it is about them, 'cause they're why I'm staying. But it ain't their decision.

Then there you go.

[He grins back at her, raises his beer a little in salute before taking another drink and shrugging.]

That being said, you're probably still a little nuts. Just from what I've heard so far.

Well, I've heard that, too. But I don't think it's really true.

Sparkle on, then. Far be it from me.

What's so terrible about back home that you're fine with just staying here? Just the people?

It's not terrible. Sometimes it's a lot better than here, you know? But it's mostly the people, you're right.

I was in prison.

I don't. I only just got here, and I'm not from where you are.

[He can say this with confidence, and he does. The prison comment gets a raised eyebrow.]

Oh?

Yeah. I was serving time for murder. Still had a few years left when I was brought here.

No wonder.

Who'd you pop?

A clinic nurse. It was a bad decision, but it was one of the reasons I was an inmate.

You don't really seem like the pro hitter type to me, if you don't mind my saying so.

That a compliment or an insult? You can't always tell here.

It's not either. It's just an observation.

It's a true one.

[She sighs, leaning back.]

I'm done killing, for good. It ain't for me.

So, you're an idealist.

I don't know about that. Do you got to be an idealist to not want to kill people?

You've got to be an idealist to think you can be done with killing for good, especially from what I've heard around here.

You don't got to kill where I come from. Unless you're a soldier or something. And here... I been here for a while, and I never had to kill anybody.

[He very carefully does not react to the word soldier. It's easy, but not as easy as it should be.]

Was there ever a time it probably would've been easiest, though? Or even maybe best?